


Add Sugar

by weardodo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking bc everybody knows werewolves cant get sick... obv., Cooking, Finger Sucking, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Oh...and stiles says fuck A LOT, Peter is a gentle lover (yes I actually went there), Stiles is underaged but knows exactly what he's doing, Stiles likes Peter being gentle, blow-job, but he also wants to get fucked thoroughly, mouth-kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:15:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weardodo/pseuds/weardodo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles somehow ends up cooking with Peter.<br/>It turns out to be more fun than he anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been having this laying around for a week now, and I kind of got a little block on this fic so I didn't touch it for a while untill I started to work on it again yesterday-evening. I actually planned on this to be a one-shot, but bc I need it to be finished soon I thought I'd break into 2 parts to put a little pressure on myself to actually get the job done ^^
> 
> Unbeta'd, Still Dutch by origin and thus no-speaky-English-native ;) All mistakes are mine and mine alone.
> 
> It's kinda out of my usual writing-zone qua topic, so hope you like it, let me know what you think! 
> 
> -x-
> 
> ps: Radar from Britney bc I had it stuck in my head when I started writing (thanks to that fanvid)  
> ps2: I honest to god have no idea what Peter's making, so your guess is as good as Stiles' ;)

                                             

 

To be honest, he had no idea how he got himself talked into this. He must’ve been temporarily drugged or something. Maybe he got hit on the head during practice one too many times? Or maybe some evil witch used some special mind-fucking herbs on him, something that makes people make horrible decisions? Was that even a thing? With Stiles’ luck it probably was…

 

Whatever it was that had made him agree to this oncoming train-wreck of an idea, here he was standing in Peter Hale’s fucking kitchen, going over the ingredients of his famous beef-stew.

 

But that wasn’t the worst part, _oh no_ , because thát would be wáy too merciful. He was standing in Peter Hale’s kitchen with none other than ‘Peter Hale’ himself.

 

Yup. Just him and crazy Uncle Pete. Side by side. Just them. Alone. In Peter’s kitchen. Far away from the rest of the pack.

 

He blamed Scott. No, Derek. Although, Erica… Oh fuck it, he blamed them all!

 

If there’d be  a scale of how utterly non-consensually fucked he can feel, this’d definitely be in the top 5 – maybe even the top 3.

 

What he hadn’t anticipated however, was that cooking with Peter actually turned out to be really fun.

 

 

+++

 

In Stiles’ opinion, the best way to handle a shit situation is to ignore the problem until it eventually just goes away.

 

Alas that MO doesn’t seem to work quite as well when the ‘problem’ at hand was another human-being – if you can call a werewolf risen from the dead a ‘human-being’ of course –  and you and said ‘human-being’ are both confined to a certain small working-area.

 

That and the fact that Stiles can’t stay quiet with another person  somewhere in his direct vicinity for the life of him. Especially not when that other person still kind of makes him nervous.

 

Peter doesn’t seem to mind the quiet though. In fact, the man almost seems to be in some sort of trancelike state of tranquility.

 

If Stiles didn’t know any better, he’d start to wonder if Peter somehow accidentally slipped back into a coma. And that the way his hand was working his spatula was just some sort of automatic spasm, just his mind having forgotten to turn that specific movement off somehow.

 

Suddenly aware that he has been staring at the man, Stiles shakes himself out of his daze and let out an audible sigh. “Would you mind if I turned on some music?”

 

No coma, apparently, because Peter briefly stopped stirring.

 

He gestures a hand towards the radio on the side of the kitchen-island without raising his head. “By all means.”

 

Expecting to hear some classic-FM station, Stiles was actually pleasantly surprised to turn on the radio and find it set on his favorite radio-station. He couldn’t help but huff out a little ‘huh’ in surprise. Peter still hadn’t moved his focus to anywhere but the bowl in front of him, but Stiles could see the side of the man’s mouth quirk upward into a smug little grin.

 

The thing with music is, whenever Stiles hears it, he can’t help but move ánd sing along. So when he hears one of his favorite Britney-songs starting to play, he goes about his work of chopping vegetables, throwing in little hip-movements while unconsciously mumbling the lyrics.

 

 _Confidence is a must_  
_Cockiness is a plus_  
_Edginess is a rush_  
_Edges I like 'em rough_  
_A man with a Midas touch_  
_Intoxicate me_  
_I'm a lush_  
_Stop you're making me blush_  
_People are looking at us_  
  
_I don't think you know (Know)_  
_I'm checking you_  
_So hot, so hot_  
_Wonder if you know_  
_You're on my radar_

At least his subconscious has enough awareness of the other man in the room to not go all John Travolta while bellowing along with those specific lines. _That would’ve been mortifyingly embarrassing._

 

Apparently that inner restraint only goes so far, because without really noticing he slowly starts to sing along fully audible.

 

“And when you walk, when you walk, And when you talk – ”

 

“When you talk.”

 

Hearing the next line coming from the man next to him, he almost drops his bag of seasoning on the ground.

 

“You like Britney Spears?” he couldn’t help but gape at the man beside him incredulously. “How do you even know her?”

 

“I was in a coma for six years, Stiles,” Peter still doesn’t look away from the bowl, handling the mixture with a care as if it was something to be treasured. “And contrary to popular belief I actually did live on planet earth before that,” he continues. “That and Miss Spears and I have something in common.”

 

“What? You both went insane?” Stiles couldn’t help but snort.

 

“We all go a little mad sometimes,” Peter retorts with a serious tone of voice.

 

“Wait, did you just – you just totally quoted Psycho didn’t you?”

 

“We both had a few ‘lesser’ years and came out ‘more vibrant’ than before,” Peter says, ignoring Stiles’ question.

 

Stiles snorts again, but he couldn’t help but be a little dumbfounded. Apparently Peter not only liked ‘normal’ music, but he also liked Britney Spears ánd quotes movie-classics.

 

Maybe the guy wasn’t all that bad after all?

 

Obviously Stiles isn’t blind, he knows what Peter looks like. He has eyes. _And a libido that could compete with his ADD brain qua activity_. But somehow the man’s, well, um ‘overall being’ always seemed to overrule any attractive feature the man possesses.

 

Okay so ‘maybe’ Stiles had checked out the man’s ass once or twice – or thrice – but that’s so not the point.

 

Peter was standing with his back to Stiles, rummaging through the fridge, when he suddenly spoke without stopping his rummaging nor turning around.

 

“You know, some people might actually find it rude when you just blatantly stare at their backsides like that.”

 

Stiles snapped his head back so fast that he almost tripped over his own limbs right on the spot (yes, that apparently is actually possible). _Fuck._ He’d been so caught up in his thoughts again, he didn’t realize he’d been staring at said aforementioned ass. _Again._

 

“Wha – I didn’t – I wasn’t – I –,” he stammered, before realizing Peter would know if he’d lie. _Stupid werewolf lie-detector ears_. “Okay, so I might’ve ‘accidentally’ dropped my eyes and lingered a bit in that specific region…” he sighed in defeat.

 

“Accidentally?” Peter questions slightly amused, and even though he can’t see the man’s face, Stiles was still able to hear him  accompany it with a raised eyebrow. _That bastard._

 

“Okay fine! I was checking out your ass, so sue me!” he practically yells while waving his hands through the air in despair. “God, I’m only human, and I can’t freakin’ help it that the Hale-gene somehow automatically comes with an allele for quarter-bounce-worthy glutes. _Djeez_. Can we just drop this, please?”

 

He was rambling, he knew he was rambling, but he couldn’t stop. Damn his lack of self-control. Damn Peter Hale. Damn everybody for persuading him to do this. He definitely blamed the pack. _All of them._

 

Peter turned around with a far too self-satisfied grin plastered on his face. _Asshole._

 

“’Quarter-bounce-worthy glutes’?” he repeated with his eyebrows raised questionably.

 

“Oh my god, can you just peacefully let me die of mortification right now, please,” Stiles let his elbows fall forward on the counter, cradling his face on the back of his hands, careful not to smear it full of seasoning and goo. This was so not his day.

 

Peter just hummed contently, threw a few more ingredients into his bowl, and started stirring again.

 

Stiles threw a few lumps of butter into the stew-pot and watched it liquefy. He had to admit that he was getting quite curious as to what Peter was making as a dessert for the ‘pack-bonding dinner’ (and yes, he even air-quoted that in his head).

 

He couldn’t help but let his eyes drift, side-glancing a few times, biting his lip in restraint. Alas, his curiosity and his sense of restraint were anything but n-sync.

 

“So…” he started. “What’ya making?”

 

“Patience,” Peter retorted almost melodiously, still unbelievably focused on his churning.

 

“You’re making ‘patience’?” Stiles couldn’t help but deadpan, earning a glare and a cocked eyebrow in return.

 

Okay, so that specific trait was definitely a Hale-thing and not just a Derek-thing, good to know.

 

Stiles sighed again and busied himself with throwing the vegetables and seasoned meat into the pot.

 

His hands were still fully covered with spices and vegetable-mush when he suddenly felt this uncontrollable itch quickly gaining terrain on his back. He tried to move his shoulders in almost spastic looking ways, but of course that didn’t help. This itch was merciless.

 

Suddenly he felt sharp nails gently scratching at just the right spot.

 

“Oh yes, oh _god_ that feels so good,” he practically moaned. Realizing who’s nails it were that were killing the itch-offender, he suddenly felt his body tighten up. “Um, I mean, thanks man, I uh – I really needed that.”

 

Looking at Peter who had just turned back to his own spot at the counter, he couldn’t help but wonder. Apparently Peter knew exactly what he was wondering about, because he cocked his head and hold up a hand, letting his nails elongate into claws before letting them retreat again. _Ah, figures._

 

After washing his hands he added some water and started stirring his stew, turning his focus back on the music. Hearing the music, his minds wandered back to Peter. He realized how little he actually knew about the man.

 

Well, aside from the maimings, murders, lies, the coma, the man’s smug arrogance, his sense of fashion, and the sassy remarks that always seemed to come natural, _oh_ , and the fact that his appearance could make both woman and men alike weep, probably angels too… and that you most likely really could bounce quarters off the man’s ass…

 

But besides thát he really didn’t know that much about him.

 

“Are you just going to keep on staring at me at random intervals, or are you going to say what you want to say straight to my face?”

 

Stiles couldn’t help but briefly look around in shock, wondering if the man was actually talking to him or if someone else somehow had miraculously appeared behind him without him noticing. Nope, Peter had definitely been talking to him.

 

“I um – I was wondering if I can just ask you some random questions, you know, like what people usually do when spending time together, have a conversation and all?”

 

He knew he must’ve looked and sounded like a stammering teenager asking a girl (or guy of course!) to go to the dance with him, and Peter must’ve surely been able to hear his heart-rate peaking, but seeing as they still had a couple of hours of passing-time to survive together he figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.

 

Well, at least he really _really_ hoped it wasn’t going to hurt…

 

Stiles watched how the man had stopped what he was doing and he could see the corner of the man’s mouth quirk up into an amused smile. “If you must.”

 

Of course Stiles kind of let the floodgates open after that and practically drowned Peter with question upon question. The man was barely even able to answer one before being attacked by an agglomerate of four or five other sidetrack questions that’d suddenly pop up in Stiles’ head.

 

That in itself hadn’t been really surprising though. What _was_ rather surprising however, at least to Stiles, was that Peter actually provided him with a lot of answers, even to somewhat personal questions. Peter had even started to ask Stiles questions of his own, which Stiles answered as truthfully as possible by means of reciprocation.

 

Stiles had started to relax more and more, letting out little sounds of surprise at some of the answers Peter provided him with, and even Peter had started to loosen up, seemingly enjoying Stiles’ eagerness to get to know him better. He wasn’t standing there facing the counter fully focused on his dessert anymore, but was now actually standing half turned towards Stiles while they talked. Peter even laughed wholeheartedly at random intervals and Stiles had to shake his head a few times, trying to stop himself from staring at the sight of the man’s blinding smile. _Those lips…_

 

He learned that Peter used to cook a lot for the family when they were still alive, that his specialty are desserts – and ‘no’, Stiles wasn’t allowed to know what he was making until _after_ it’s done. He learned that Peter had a wife and a daughter – both died in the fire – , and that he used to take up dancing lessons and was actually pretty good – he even won some prizes at local tournaments. He also learned that the man loved to read either poetry and medieval literature, or suspense thrillers involving crime – Stiles could sense some irony in that. His favorite movie-genres – besides the classics –  are crappy horror and scifi – _‘but tell anyone I ever told you that and I will hunt you down, kill you and dispose of the body by shredding it into little unrecognizable pieces’._  At least some things clearly never change…

 

In turn, Stiles told Peter how he used to cook with his mom – that the stew-recipe was actually hers – , how he also knows how to ballroom dance, that he took a course in school without anyone knowing it because he wanted to come prepared for his senior dance. He told Peter about his panic-attacks, how he felt helpless and lonely at times but always knew how to cover it up with humor so that his dad wouldn’t notice and get all concerned. He retorted Peter’s admission about his favorite movie-genres by blurting out that they should totally have a movie-night sometime – for which he felt instantly embarrassed, which he tried to hide by asking the man another question and talking some more.

 

Stiles felt reluctant to admit it aloud, but he was really enjoying himself with the older man. Not only that, he actually had a lot in common with Peter. And if the way they were both stealing side-way glances was anything to go by, he knew Peter felt the same. They were both surprised by how well they seemed to click.

 

[...]


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... so... it's turning out a bit longer that I wanted again... )
> 
> And because I didn't want to leave people hanging (I actually kind of hate WIPs myself, 'cause I just want to be able to read a fic in one read and not have to wait untill the next part...) I decided to break the seconds part into 2 parts again..
> 
> so basically it's going to be 3 parts instead of 2... *whistles innocently*
> 
> Hope you like it!
> 
> -x-

 

 

Stiles leisurely stirred through his stew and scooped a little bit of the gravy-sauce onto the wooden spoon only to hold it up in Peter’s direction. Peter looked a bit confused at that, so Stiles felt compelled to elaborate.

 

“I need you to taste it, to see if it needs more salt, and I’d do it myself, but I’ve been tasting it so often that my taste buds aren’t really able to be objective anymore, and I know you’ve got like these _über_ -sensitive tasting-abilities, but still you’d be definitely better at doing it than me, so…?”

 

He was rambling again and he knew it, but luckily Peter just huffed out a laugh and leaned towards the spoon without taking his eyes off of Stiles’ for one second, not even to blink. Stiles in turn couldn’t help but look back, watching fully mesmerized how Peter nipped at the spoon to take in the sauce.

 

Stiles watched how Peter tasted his cooking, waiting in anticipation for the man’s reaction. Peter clearly knew this as he watched Stiles without showing off any signs as to how he felt about the mushy gravy-sauce he just took in his mouth. _And god, that even sounded dirty in Stiles’ head._

 

“This,” Peter suddenly spoke while swallowing and licking his lips. “This is really delicious Stiles.” He almost sounded surprised by that admission himself, which Stiles probably should’ve taken as an insult, but he was too busy blushing and gloating to give a damn.

 

“Really? It’s – it’s really okay?”

 

“It’s more than ‘okay’, Stiles,” the man said matter-of-factly. “And to be frank, I find the thought of those tasteless pack-animals devouring it within seconds without even acknowledging its finesse to be quite repulsive.”

 

If Stiles wasn’t blushing before, he was definitely flushed beet-red right now, nervously raking his hand through the hair at the back of his head. “Thanks, I um – thanks.” He lidded the pot again to let its contents simmer.

 

He’d started to dry off some of the cleaned dishes, humming along to Lady Gaga, when he noticed in the corner of his eye that Peter was standing next to him. Looking up, the man was standing there holding out a spatula with some creamy looking stuff on it. He looked at it questionably before turning his eyes back up to Peter.

 

“Your turn,” the man said as if it was only logical, and Stiles bent his head forward to nip at the mixture.

 

“ _Oh my god_ ,” he couldn’t help but moan when the taste hit his tongue. “This is _so good_ , _djesus christ_ dude. No seriously, why kill people with claws if you could just let them taste this and watch them die of a taste-induced aneurism? If my stew would’ve needed more salt, you could’ve just let me taste this and I could’ve used my own tears. _Fuck_.”

 

He was definitely rambling again, but he just couldn’t stop. He didn’t know what exactly it was that Peter was making, but he was sure that if heaven had a taste, this would be it.

 

Peter seemed to enjoy watching Stiles having a food-orgasm, as he was genuinely smiling at Stiles’ reaction.

 

“Good.” It was all the man said in response before Stiles watched Peter gaze go down until it reached his mouth. Before Stiles could even process it, Peter’s hand had come up and Stiles felt how the man swiped his thumb across the side of his lip and retrieved it covered in some of the mixture.

 

He watched how the older man absentmindedly put that same thumb in his own mouth to suck it clean. Apparently this hadn’t been his original idea, because Stiles could see how the man’s eyes widened with the realization of what he was doing. Stiles just stared and gaped, his mind not being able to fully function at all at the moment.

 

Peter got his thumb out of his mouth with a pop, and Stiles was still staring at the man’s mouth with his own mouth ajar. The scene he’d just witnessed was downright mindboggling – in a good way – and he felt himself getting turned on by the sight of the other man’s mouth. _That bottom lip_.

 

Of course that’s when he also realized that Peter would be able to smell his arousal, and that thought somehow made his aroused mind think ‘fuck it’. He reached his own hand forward, eyes still fully focused on Peter’s mouth, and gently placed two fingers on the man’s bottom-lip.

 

Looking up, he saw how Peter’s eyes were still wide, but now they looked more like a mixture of confused and expectant. That was all Stiles needed to slowly start tracing the lip with his fingers, completely mesmerized by how full and soft it felt.

 

That’s when he suddenly realized what the hell he was doing and visibly snapped out of his daze, shaking his head firmly once and blinking a few times. “God I’m – I’m sorry, I – ”

 

But before he could retrieve his hand, Peter suddenly grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand back to his mouth. Eyes locked on Stiles’, he guided his fingers to his mouth and he didn’t stop at his lips. Stiles watched wide-eyed how Peter took his fingers in his mouth and he could feel the wet warmth envelope around them when Peter started to suck.

 

The feeling of the older man’s tongue massaging his fingers made Stiles’ breath hitch and he couldn’t help but let out a sudden and embarrassingly deep moan. It seemed to last forever when Peter finally pulled the wrist he was still holding away from him and let Stiles’ now slick fingers slowly emerge from his mouth, letting them linger a bit on his own lips, making them glister with saliva.

 

Stiles nearly had an orgasm just watching the whole scene in front of him. He actually started to literally feel weak in the knees, but before he could flail and inevitably collapse to the ground, Peter was already standing right in front of him using two hands to hold him steady by his waist. All Stiles could do was just watch. Somehow his brain had taken a leave of absence and forgot to leave a note as to when it might be back.

 

Before he could process what was happening Peter hands slipped to the back of his thighs and feeling the world turn for a split second he was suddenly lifted and sitting on the island with the man standing in between his legs.

 

“Tell me you want me to touch you.” He didn’t end with a begging ‘please’, but Stiles could hear the slight hint of desperation in Peter’s voice, his eyes pleading, waiting for permission. The man actually looked downright wrecked.

 

He had done that, Stiles realized. He had made Peter Hale look like that, wrecked and desperate.

 

Stiles was still absolutely mesmerized by the man’s bottom-lip, and without answering the man’s question, he couldn’t help but slowly drag his index- and middle finger across it again. He was watching the movement of his own fingers with such concentration that his own mouth was hanging open and he had to lick his lip to keep any drool from escaping.

 

This was so bad, he really shouldn’t do this. Hell, he shouldn’t even want  to do this, not with this man. But the fact of the matter is, he really _really_ does want it. He wants Peter and it actually felt good. He desperately wants to know what that mouth would feel like all over his body. He’s dead-curious about what kind of lover the man in front of him would be. Rough? Tender? A combination of both? There’s only one way to find out, right?

 

“Yeah,” he replied absentmindedly. “Yes,” he said more determined after snapping himself out of his daze and looking up to meet Peter’s eyes. “I want you to touch me.”

 

Apparently that was all the incentive the man had needed, because Stiles lost his shirt in mere seconds and Peter was holding out one of Stiles’ arms and started to drag his mouth over the skin, all the way up, leaving little pecks along the way until he reached his shoulder.

 

That’s when he stopped and looked right at Stiles, his pupils the size of saucers and an almost dopey looking grin on his face. He never would’ve guessed Peter was actually capable of looking ‘dopey’, he reserved that mental term especially for Scott. Shows how much he knows.

 

The man had his hands leaning on Stiles’ thighs when his gaze dropped to his mouth and he lifted one hand to gently touch it with his thumb before placing his index-finger under Stiles’ chin leading Stiles forward a bit before leaning in himself.

 

The kiss was almost chaste, a gentle brush of lips touching lips, and when Peter leaned back briefly, looking at Stiles for approval, the ghost of a nod Stiles gave in return made the man lean back in again, deepening the kiss. 

 

Stiles felt how Peter’s tongue tried to gain access, and thinking about the way the man’s tongue had felt around his fingers, he more than happily granted him that access, feeling the soft muscle rubbing his own. It wasn’t sloppy though. No, it was how Stiles always imagined a gigolo would go about doing their job: fully calculated and controlled, like a man with experience.

 

He started to run his own long fingers through the man’s hair, pressing him closer still, focusing on the way it felt to have another man’s lips pressed on his own, another tongue caressing his and the taste of foreign saliva in his mouth. Peter tasted almost sweet. He could definitely get used to this. He automatically wrapped his legs around the man’s waist while Peter placed his hand – the hand that wasn’t cupping Stiles’ cheek – on his lower back.

 

Stiles was hard, but pulling Peter closer with his feet, he felt how the other man’s clothed bulge pressed against him, so apparently he wasn’t the only one. Peter moaned into his mouth and Stiles wasn’t even sure what kind of sounds he’d been making himself but he was sure it probably sounded something between desperate and downright obscene.

 

Pressing Stiles towards him once more, a slow deep press against his own hardness, Peter slowly released him, breaking the kiss and taking a little step back. He brushed his thumb across Stiles’ lip again, brushing away some of the wetness before looking into Stiles’ eyes again.

 

“Tell me what you want.”

 

It was an easy question, but somehow Stiles’ mind still wasn’t fully operable at the moment, so it took a few seconds to actually form a coherent reply.

 

“I want – I want to have sex with you?” Okay, that definitely came out all wrong, it sounded like a blurted out question and who even says ‘sex’ anymore these days. Stiles mentally facepalmed himself and quickly tried again.

 

“I want you to fuck me – I mean, if you uh – if you want to fuck me of course, I mean, we don’t have to fuck if you don’t want to fuck, this is definitely nice too, I mean ‘great’, this is great! And I’d probably suck at the fucking part, because I’ve never done it before, well, not with anyone besides myself I mean, and you’d probably be doing all the hard work, and _god_ how many innuendos did I just throw in there? I’m saying ‘fuck’ a lot aren’t I?   _Fuck._ Oh my god, I’m just gonna shut up now…” He physically facepalmed himself, looking down at his lap, trying his best to avoid Peter’s eyes.

 

Peter wouldn’t let him though. The man placed his index-finger under Stiles’ chin again and tilted his head up so that he had no other choice than to avert his gaze to the side to not look straight at him.

 

“Stiles? Yes. I would love to have sex with you,” The way Peter said ‘sex’ made Stiles stop his averting and lock his eyes with Peter’s. “It would be an honor to _fuck_ you,” the man said before bending forward and catching Stiles’ mouth with his own again.

 

Stiles’ couldn’t help but enclose his arms around him as the kiss started to turn filthy. Calculated, but filthy nonetheless. Peter rubbed his thighs and moved up placing both his hands on Stiles’ ass, pulling him towards him while Stiles put his legs around him again.

 

That’s when Stiles felt himself suddenly being lifted from the island-counter, feeling Peter firmly cupping his ass while walking towards a part of the apartment Stiles hadn’t seen before with him still wrapped around his waist.

 

[...]


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay.... *bangs head against desk repeatedly*
> 
> See, I'm actually on holliday r/now, and somehow the burning sun and the overconsumation of alcohol is kinda making my own ADD brain go *ladiedadieda*, so... even though I def. want to finish it this morning, I kinda feel bad about not posting the last part last night, so I'm breaking it off in 2 parts again (yes! again, yes! *sorry* =/)
> 
> You can always berate me in the comment-section (I will read it and I will feel bad, I promise ;))
> 
> www.IshouldntbeallowedtowriteWIPs.com
> 
> -x-

 

 

They entered Peter’s bedroom without breaking off the kiss once, at least not until Peter gently bent over the bed to lay him down. Stiles unwrapped his legs when he felt his back denting the mattress and propped himself up on his elbows, watching Peter taking off his sinful looking black V-neck and his pants with two swift movements.

 

_Jesus Christ, Mary and Joseph, and all that is holy and unholy in this fucked up world._

 

“Oh my fucking god, djesus fuck, you look – I can’t – You’re – I just – fuck.”

 

_Hello, this is Stiles’ brain speaking, I can’t come to the phone right now because I’m having a slight breakdown, but please leave your message after the beep and I’ll get back to you as soon as someone replaces the burned-through fuse._

_Beep._

 

Peter actually sniggered at Stiles’ babbling, and Stiles really couldn’t blame him. He sounded like a dork. Well, technically he was a dork, but at least he usually managed to sound reasonably coherent.

 

He knew Peter looked good, but he really didn’t think the man would look anything like _this_ underneath that shirt. He wasn’t as ripped as Derek, but _hot damn_. Derek who?

 

The man had an incredibly broad chest, equally incredible shoulders and a broad waist to die for. And if that wasn’t enough to make Stiles’ mouth water – which it definitely was by the way! – , the man’s body-hair definitely made him blatantly drool.

 

Okay, yes, Stiles definitely had a thing for big, strong, older man, it was proven right now, _signed, sealed and delivered_.

 

“I take it you approve?” Peter said with his arms crossed and a smug grin on his face.

 

“I would make some witty comeback remark if it wasn’t for the fact that my brain just melted, so get your beautiful ass over here and fuck me already.”

 

“Bossy,” Peter noted amusedly as he walked to the bed and crawled onto it and practically onto Stiles, propping himself up on one elbow right beside him, letting his head rest on his hand while keeping his eyes locked with Stiles’.

 

The man had a definite hungry look in his eyes as he showed him his hand and Stiles saw how the human nails started to elongate into claws. Stiles probably shouldn’t have found that as hot as he did, but fuck all _shouldn’t couldn’t wouldn’t_ right now. That was definitely hot.

 

Peter started to carefully trace a path down Stiles’ chest with the sharp nails while Stiles just watched the claws moving downward, stopping at the button of his pants and then slowly dragging upward again until he reached his neck. It didn’t tickle, but it definitely made his body tingle all over. Werewolves apparently came with an extra sex-toy growing from their bodies.

 

As Peter cupped his cheek, leaning forward, Stiles replied by leaning forward too to close the gap. It wasn’t long before the older man moved his body, gently rolling on top of him, placing himself in between Stiles’ legs while caressing his cheek, softly raking the sharp nails up and down.

 

Breaking the kiss he looked down at Stiles like he was amazed to have the boy laying under him like this. Nobody had ever looked at him like that before, and it actually made him feel a bit nervous.

 

“You are a very beautiful young man, Stiles. I can’t believe no-one has ever touched you like this before. It just goes to show the stupidity prevailing in this town”

 

He sounded so sincere that Stiles couldn’t help but blush at Peter’s words. Nobody had ever called him ‘beautiful’ before – well, nobody besides his mom, but that was different, that wasn’t out of want. Peter wanted him, and Stiles in turn got to have him. He actually got to have this gorgeous man that could probably get half the town in his bed if he wanted to. _Okay, that little fact definitely did absolutely nothing to calm down his nerves_.

 

“You’re nervous.” It wasn’t so much a question as it was an observation. _Damn those werewolf super-senses!_

 

“Duh, no shit! I mean, have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? And besides that, what part of ‘virgin’ don’t you quite understand?” He was aiming for snarky, but it just came out plain shaky. _He was acting like some virgin – which he was, but still._ _Damn his nerves, damn them!_

 

“I’m not going to hurt you, Stiles. Well, at least not much…”

 

 _Oh great, yeah, no, that really helped a lot_. He knew his heart had started to pound like crazy at Peter admission, even he could feel his pulse throbbing in his veins. Of course the man noticed too, and he actually dared to chuckle while he let his head rest at Stiles’ shoulder.

 

“Look, I can’t promise you that it won’t hurt at first, if I’d say thát I’d be lying,” he said while planting open mouthed kisses on his shoulder. _God, those lips! That mouth should be illegal!_ “But what I can promise you is that it’ll hurt more if you don’t relax, so we should really work on trying to calm you down a bit first. Okay?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah okay. So… how do we do that?”

 

Stiles watched how Peter started to trace open mouthed kisses down his chest, all the way to where his happy-trail disappeared into his pants.

 

“Oh, I’m sure I can think of something,” Stiles felt the man smirk against his abdomen before he let himself slide of the bed. Peter pulled him half off the bed, making his legs dangle over the side. His shoes went first, then his pants. And to be honest, what with his boxers tenting and all, he kind of felt exposed. Luckily Peter solved that little problem when he took off Stiles’ boxers too. Yeah, no question about the ‘kind of feeling exposed’ part now, now he definitely felt exposed. 

 

Peter’s head docilely rubbing up his thigh reminded Stiles of a dog nuzzling his master’s leg, and he couldn’t help but gasp and moan at the feeling of the man’s mouth tracing up his leg towards his now overly happy dick. He propped himself up on his elbow to watch – _what? He wasn’t going to pass up on seeing Peter fucking Hale suck on his dick_ – , but the second he felt Peter’s hot breath ghosting over his already leaking head, he felt his eyes roll back in his head and his arms faltered, making him fall back down again.

 

“Oh my _god_ , oh fuck, _djesus_ fuck.” Okay, so maybe his vocal capacity had slightly diminished the moment he felt Peter’s wet mouth taking him in all the way to the base, but _holy fuck_. The man started to suck him with gusto, leaving no sensitive spot untouched, fervently making use of that perfect mouth and tongue, gently playing with his balls, and _god_ this man was a pro.

 

How the hell did Peter know how to give head so thoroughly good though, wasn’t he married with kids before?

 

_Oh god, fuck, who cares anyway!_

 

“Seriously Peter, I – you’ve gotta stop – I’m gonna, fuck.” His hips bucked up uncontrollably as he felt himself pulse down the man’s throat accompanied with a purely wanton moan.

 

After Peter made sure he swallowed every last drop, licking away the last drops glistering at his slit, he crawled onto the bed again, right next to Stiles, watching him with a content grin.

 

“Better?”

 

“Djesus fuck.”

 

“Such a dirty little mouth,” the man noted with amusement while leaning forward and dragging his tongue across Stiles mouth.

 

Stiles could taste himself on his lips now, and it wasn’t that he’d never tasted himself before – he had – but the combination of his own come with Peter’s sweet tasting saliva made him want to taste more. He pushed Peter with his last bit of energy, making the man fall over onto his back. Peter let out a confused sound, when Stiles literally dragged himself on top of him and started to lazily lick into the man’s mouth.

 

“Tastes so good,” were all the coherent words he could produce as Peter wrapped his arms around him and pressed him firmly against his body. He could feel the other man’s hardness against him and he wondered if he should return the favor. Trying to prop himself up onto his hands, Peter must’ve known what he was thinking, because the man pressed him down, shaking his head slowly with his mouth still locked on Stiles’.

 

“Uh uh, we’ll fix that little problem soon enough.” It was a hard promise (pun intended), a promise that miraculously made Stiles dick twitch again. _Hey, teenage virgin, what’d you expect_.

 

Stiles let his head rest on Peter’s chest, slowly tracing circles on the man’s chest with his fingers.

 

“Peter?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Can you fuck me now please?”

 

“Gladly,” the man retorted while flipping them over and positioning himself on top of Stiles.

 

[...]


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Eureka! Praise the Lord! It's finished! 
> 
> Djesus Christ, this fic felt like giving birth -_-
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like the last part, I didn't re-read it before posting, so... I pray to god it's coherent =/
> 
> Let me know what you think! ^^
> 
> -x-

 

 

He could feel how the man’s still clothed erection pressed right underneath his balls, and he really wanted to know what the rest of Peter looked and felt like right now so he started to pull on the man’s boxer-briefs. Peter didn’t budge though.

 

All he was able to do was pull it over the man’s ass a bit, and when he started to knead at those perfectly formed muscles, trying to press Peter closer, trying to get more friction, Peter suddenly grabbed his wrists, pulling his hands up, pinning them down above Stiles’ head.

 

“So demanding,” the man purred into his ear, topping it off with a lick.

 

The combination of Peter’s hot breath on his neck with the feeling of Peter’s hard-on rubbing against him was too much, and Stiles could feel his own dick starting to fill up again.

 

“God, Peter, please, just – off – _fuck_ , take it off, I wanna – I wanna feel you. Now!” He started to writhe, trying to release his hands, but of course Peter was way too strong. All he got in response were content sounds, as if he was actually enjoying the way Stiles was squirming underneath him. Knowing Peter, he probably was. Stiles thought about kneeing the man in the balls, but seeing as he still needed that specific part to function, he refrained.

 

Peter started to kiss his neck, alternating with tongue and teeth, sucking on each touched spot before moving onto the next. It felt so good, and it made Stiles moan so deep, so low, that he was absolutely certain that he had some kind of G-spot hidden in his neck. He stopped trying to break free and just let Peter take what he wanted.

 

Suddenly the feeling of Peter’s mouth on his body was replaced by the feeling of salivated spots getting cold. He hadn’t even realized that his eyes were closed and when he opened them he saw how the other man was leaning towards the drawer of the bedside dresser, retrieving a small bottle with what Stiles knew had to be lube.

 

_This was it. He was going to lose his virginity to Peter fucking Hale, and he felt absolutely no remorse about it whatsoever. Peter was right: we all go a little mad sometimes._

 

Placing the bottle next to them on the bed, Peter slid off the bed again, pulling down his boxer-briefs and stepping out of them while keeping his eyes locked on Stiles. Stiles in turn couldn’t help but look straight down. _What? he was curious._

 

“Oh my god, you can’t be serious,” he stated while gaping at the man’s perfectly formed dick. “That’s not even fair, that’s like the epithet of unfair. What, did you get to choose all your new body-parts when you came back from the death or something?”

 

Peter just grinned at that, looking smug like usual. Stiles couldn’t help but find that look somewhat endearing right now and he rolled over, sitting on the edge of the bed on his knees, looking straight at Peter while biting his bottom-lip wantonly. Peter smug grin faltered somewhat when Stiles beckoned him over with his index-finger.

 

“Come here, I want to touch you,” he said while licking his lips enticingly. When Peter was close enough to touch, Stiles placed his hands on the man’s chest, touching him as if he was a blind man trying to get to know his surroundings.

 

He let his hands slowly trace a path down until he placed them onto the man’s broad muscled sides. Bending forward a bit, he stopped his mouth just in front of Peter’s dick, letting his breath ghost over its head.

 

When he turned his gaze upward, Peter was looking down at him with pure unadulterated lust in his eyes. He definitely didn’t look smug now. Keeping his eyes locked with Peter’s, Stiles smiled while he darted out his tongue and gave the man’s dick a controlled lick, slowly dragging the tip of his tongue underneath the base until it reached the head.   

 

Stiles could definitely get addicted to making Peter look desperate and wanting like that. It made him feel good, it made him feel bold.

 

“Wanna find out what else I can do with this ‘dirty little mouth’?” he didn’t even know where the hell that came from, but somehow he felt relaxed and confident enough around the older man to just let go, to just do whatever he felt like doing.

 

And right now, he desperately wants to hear Peter moan and growl, to watch him crumble. He wants Peter to lose control and jump him, ravish him like the animal that he is.

 

Looking fully mesmerized, Peter put his thumb on Stiles’ lip again, tracing it before dipping it inside Stiles’ mouth, rubbing his tongue.

 

“Show me what else you can do with that mouth of yours.”

 

Stiles sucked the man’s thumb firmly before backing up and letting it literally slip out with a loud pop. He let his hands slowly roam to Peter’s lower back, going down until he reached the man’s ass. He really couldn’t help the moan that escaped his mouth the moment his hands touched that ass. After all, he was only human – and that ass kind of felt like it couldn’t possibly be human _at all_.

 

He pulled Peter forward a bit, releasing one hand only to wrap it around the man’s perfect dick, guiding it to his mouth.

 

Gently kissing the tip once, he started to take it in, just the tip, suckling on it and letting his tongue swirls around it a bit before sucking him in whole, all the way to the base.

 

He’d never done this before, but he was a quick learner. And besides remembering in detail what Peter had done to him only moments before, he had also watched a considerable amount of, um ‘nature movies’, so, he technically knew what to do.

 

It was kind of weird at first, the feeling of his mouth around another man’s dick, but it tastes way better than he had anticipated. He could taste the salty pre-come on his tongue, and maybe it was just because it was Peter’s, but he already knew that if Peter’s come tasted anything like this, he definitely wanted to taste it more often.

 

Hearing Peter gasp and moan, feeling the man’s hand tugging his hair, it wasn’t long before he felt the hand tightening around his hair and he was pulled back. Suddenly Peter pushed him backwards onto the bed, climbing on top of him with a growl. _Bingo_ , he thought as the man started to devour his mouth.

 

This kiss definitely wasn’t calculated, no it was downright filthy and demanding. He could feel the man’s slick dick being pressed against his own erection and the friction made him join in Peter’s noises, making them moan in unison. Peter stopped for a brief moment to grab the lube and he started to coat his fingers while licking into Stiles’ mouth at random intervals.

 

As Stiles felt the man’s hand slipping in between them, slipping all the way down, his heartbeat started to race like a lunatic again.

 

“Relax,” Peter whispered into his mouth while Stiles felt two lubricated fingers rubbing up and down between his cleft, one of them softly starting to trace circles around his hole.

 

“Tell me, Stiles, have you ever played with yourself like this before, have you ever used those obscenely long fingers on yourself?” The way Peter asked him sounded downright dirty, and if Stiles thought he couldn’t get more turned on than he already was, well, he clearly had been wrong.

 

But before he could answer the man slipped one finger inside and all he could let out was a low moan.

 

“ _God_ – fuck.”

 

“Well, hm?”

 

Feeling Peter’s finger fucking him slowly until it’s two knuckles deep, he threw his head back and just moaned some more.

 

“Y – yeah – I – _fuck_.” Apparently Peter had found his prostate, and he damn well knew it as he started to rub the tip of his finger against the little cushioned spot that literally made tears appear in Stiles eyes.

 

“God, djezus, fuck, Peter _please…_ ” And there goes his coherency again.

 

Peter just smiled and hummed in reply, slipping in another finger beside the one that was already teasing Stiles to death. Stiles in turn could feel his eyes roll into the back of his head, his breathe hitching as he watched the black world being dotted with bright sparks.

 

It felt so good that he could literally die right now and not give a rats ass. He tried to press down, he wanted to feel more. He _needed_ to feel more.

 

“So eager,” Peter whispered into his ear before taking his earlobe between his teeth and tugging it.

 

Stiles let himself be fucked on the man’s fingers, letting himself be stretched by the scissoring movements. It did hurt when Peter pressed in another finger, but it was a good kind of hurting, the pain being overruled by the sensation of nerve-endings sending bolts of pleasure through his spine, all the way through his body.

 

“ _Ngh_ , please – _oh fuck_ – Peter, just – I – _oh god_.”

 

Apparently Peter understood the language of ‘rambling’ because he slowly retrieved his fingers one by one and grabbed the lube. He squirted an amenable amount into his palm and reached down to coat his dick. Positioning himself with one hand, the other still keeping him propped up, Peter slowly pressed at his entrance.

 

As Peter started to push in, Stiles felt the painful burn of being stretched in an impossible way. Peter wasn’t lying, it did hurt, and he automatically started to writhe. Peter in turn guided Stiles’ legs so that they were hooked around his waist.

 

“Shh, relax Stiles, try to relax,” the man tried to shush him while giving his gaping mouth little kisses and brushing his hand across his cheek. “It’ll feel better soon, I promise.”

 

And Peter was right. After the man slowly pressed in and out, going deeper with each press, Stiles could feel the pain starting to dull and he started to feel more relaxed.

 

“That’s better,” Peter said while pushing in again and finally filling him up to the brim. Stiles grabbed the man’s hair and pulled him down, licking into his mouth while Peter stopped his movements. He felt so full, and he really needed the other man to move right now, so he bit Peter’s lip, almost drawing blood.

 

“Move. Now.” He demanded when he pulled Peter’s head up by his hair.

 

“So feisty,” Peter hummed while slowly pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in again, making Stiles gasp. The man started sucking on his neck again while repeatedly moving out and thrusting back in and Stiles’ grip on Peter’s hair tightened. He felt torn between the over-stimulation on his neck, his dick being rubbing between them, and how good it felt, fighting the urge to pull the man away from his neck while he pressed him down harder instead.

 

All he could do was moan and pant while finally getting thoroughly fucked.

 

Peter pressed Stiles’ leg down a bit more, and the angle made him hit Stiles’ prostate again, making him see stars.

 

“Oh Fuck! Again! Again again again, now!” Okay, so yeah, maybe he was a little demanding at times, but he really didn’t give a damn right now as long as Peter fucked him in that spot again. Which _thank god_ he did.

 

“Harder, Peter, _fuck_ , I want you to fuck me harder!” Okay, so apparently he was really getting into it, because the insistent need to get completely fucked into the mattress was definitely overruling his mind right now.

 

Peter didn’t seem to mind though, if the deep animalistic growling sounds he was making were anything to by.

 

“You feel so good, so tight and wet just for me.” Peter actually panted into his ear, sounding completely wrecked and on the verge of breaking. It was that sound combined with the way his dick was being rubbed and the persistent thrusting of peter’s dick against his sweet-spot that made Stiles’ body shake as he came with a moaning and lingering ‘fuuuuuck’.

 

He felt himself tighten around Peter, and the man thrusted once more before coming himself with a loud growl. Stiles could feel the man’s dick pulsing inside him and his whole body started to go slack. Unwrapping his legs he just laid there with Peter splayed across him breathing heavily into his shoulder.

 

Peter was heavy – probably all muscle, but still – so he tried to push him off, trying to let his body breathe a bit. As a response Peter rolled over, slipping out of Stiles and taking him with him, planting Stiles on top of himself while running his hand through his hair. Stiles just laid there, plastered across the man’s chest, feeling Peter’s come trickling out of his ass. He felt absolutely blissed-out.

 

“So,” Stiles couldn’t help but note after laying there in silence for a little while, both regaining normal breathing. “This is pretty weird, right? Me and you I mean.”

 

“For us or for others?” And Stiles had to admit that Peter had a good point, so he just sighed and gave him a kiss in response.

 

 

**_Epilogue_ **

 

Of course the food was completely ruined.

 

The stew had been cooked dry and the bowl with whatever the hell it was that Peter was making hadn’t been cooled so had most likely turned sour.

 

They both couldn’t care less, but they had to tell the pack something to explain the lack of home-cooked food, so Stiles send out a group-text.

 

 **Little Red:** **_Peter and I have decided to do a little ‘bonding’ of our own. Number of the pizza-place is on Derek’s fridge._** ** _Have fun, I know we are :) x_ **

 

He threw his phone somewhere in the vicinity of the couch and followed Peter back into the bedroom.

 

 

                                                                                         - FIN -


End file.
